Scars
by That-Fresh-Rain-Smell
Summary: Reverse antigay wizarding world thingy, inspired by the Room of Requirement, by ladylynn update, woman! and...pretty good. angst with a happy ending. I like writing these HarrySnape talks.


Scars and Reasons

A/N: Hmmm, okay, so, for those of you sticklers who like to be strictly by the book, besides some allotments for slash; this story: not for you. There's much OOC-ness, though not on the paired-peoples parts, mostly on the outsiders (Hermione, Ron, etc.) I got this absurd idea from someone (sadly, I don't know what author it was, though I believe the story was the 'Room of Requirement' and I like the oddity of It. so there. -Sticks out tongue childishly, as learned from Sarah-kun- ...oh, and I just want to add how much I love writing Snape talking. -Nod nod- yes, yes I do. -Dreamy smile- -quotes from story below- "Your feelings for me are...of a stronger nature, are they not?" hehe -giggles and does happy dance-

-Kozy

**Harry leaned over his cauldron as he carefully added the necessary ingredients for his bruise-healing paste. His sleeve fell open over the bubbling concoction and he quickly grabbed it closed, looking around to see if anyone had notice. He heaved an inner sigh. They hadn't. He carefully tied the black cloth back together and reached with the other hand for a new ingredient, after stirring the yellow goo counterclockwise three times. The bell was about to ring, and he knew and he only had a few minutes to finish off the potion. **

**When the bell rang, He sighed outwardly in relief; nothing had gone wrong with his potion and it had actually come out pretty decent. He left a small vial of it on Snape's desk, and started to walk out. **

**"Mister Potter. Will you please remain, I have something that is of certain importance to discuss with you," Snape's silky voice drifted over to meet his ears right as his feet were about to cross the threshold. He turned around, walking dejectedly back to stand in front of the man's desk. When the last of the students had left, Snape spoke. **

**"Hold out your arm, Potter." Harry felt his hopes fall. He knew it had to be about this. The damned man must have seen his sleeve fall open and now he would insult him, or taunt him, or whatever it was that the sadistic bastard did for fun, and Harry couldn't stop any of it, because Snape always got what he wanted from Harry. Whether it was impossibly ridiculous, or something deadly or degrading, Harry could simply not say no anymore. He held out his arm. Snape leaned forward and pulled up the sleeve slowly. The familiar, thin, white scars that laced his skin met Harry's eyes, and suddenly he was ashamed. This puzzled him, because it never made him feel like that before. They were always a source of comfort. **

**"What is this, Potter," Snape asked. As if he didn't know. Harry shrugged.**

**"Surely they don't appear overnight," Snape commented, pulling the sleeve up past Harry's elbow. The scars continued past and up. No matter how far Snape pulled it up, he couldn't find where it ended. **

**"How far does this go?" Snape demanded. Harry shrugged again, pulling away by stepping back a foot.**

**"Why do you care?" The boy muttered.**

**"Why do I care, Potter? Why shouldn't I care? We can't have our savior becoming suicidal, now can we?" Snape replied. "Now answer me, how far does it continue?" Harry shrugged, and Snape, getting fed up, waved his wand. All but one article of Harry's clothes disappeared, leaving the now shivering boy standing in only his navy blue boxers, too stunned to react. **

**Snape examined him closely, noting that the scars started at his wrists, on both arms, and stopped right at his shoulders. There were small and large silver lines decorating his stomach, and a few on his thighs. **

**"Can I have my clothes back!?" Harry yelled after a long, cold five minutes had past. Snape's eyes raked his body one last time, and then his wand waved again. Harry's clothes reappeared. Though his button-down shirt was left unbuttoned, and his jeans were unzipped, they were back, and thankfully warm. **

**"Could you profess some form of explanation?" Snape said after a few minutes of tense silence. **

**"No," Harry all but snarled. Snape looked at him mildly.**

**"Then perhaps you would speak to the headmaster,"**

**"No," Fear flashed in his eyes, and Snape caught it immediately.**

**"I am not letting this go," Snape informed him.**

**"Well, if my own best friends hate me because of it, what makes you think that I would tell you my reasons? Hell, everyone hates me."**

**"They hate you for slicing up your arm? How very reasonable people have turned out to be."**

**"No, for _why_ I cut."**

**"Oh my, it must be very important indeed. Is it because of something trivial, like most things in the Gryffindor house? Or is it something at least somewhat reasonable, like, oh, say you found out you were dark," Harry gave no outward reaction. After a few tense moments where Harry looked Snape square in the eyes, he sighed heavily and sat. **

**"I finally told Hermione and Ron something, and they started hating me, and they spread a different rumor to get others to hate me too. Apparently what I told them was too bad to share. They told me that when I have more normal tendencies, then to come talk to them. So now everyone hates me and it's all my fucking fault. _They_ tried to cure me of it before, but it didn't work, and so I was stupid enough to think that it might be different in the wizarding realm. But of course, its not. So I cut because maybe someday I'll 'slip' and then I can be gone for good. And maybe it will help fix me." Snape looked at Harry for a long time. **

**"So, something is wrong with you, and thus everyone hates you, thus you mutilate your skin." He said, and Harry nodded. "Well. I assure you that I have heard the worst, and that nothing you say could possibly make me hate you more. In fact, I'm probably the only person in the world who will simply hate you at the same level no matter what."**

**"That's comforting," Harry muttered. Then he raised his head, tilting his chin. "But untrue. I'm sure you could hate me more. If-if you knew. And even if you didn't, that wouldn't stop you from laughing at me, teasing me, mocking me, I don't know…painfully hurting me in some way." **

**"You believe I would physically attack you?" Snape's voice was quiet and Harry wondered for a minute what he was thinking. **

**"Yes. If my best friends suddenly hated me for it, how am I supposed to think someone who has always hated me will act?" **

**"Your logic is wrong, again, Potter," Snape said dryly. Harry didn't even want to know how it was wrong this time.**

**"Can I go now?"**

**"No," Snape waved that cursed wand again, and the doors closed and locked, as well as any other visible exit. Harry looked at him, stun and enragement filling his features. Clenching his fists, he looked down. After about twenty minutes of a very long silence, he muttered, **

**"I like men," through clenched teeth. His shoulders were hunched as if expecting an onslaught, and his head was bowed, looking at his lap.**

**"An interesting development," Was Snape's only response. Harry looked up, bewilderment evident in his features.**

**"I tell you this, and that's all you have to say? I had to find out the hard way that wizards are even more homophobic than muggles, and, if any gays actually came out, there would be something akin to the lynching of blacks over in America as a punishment, and there you are, acting like its nothing!" Harry said angrily. **

**"Yes, this is true. But what you didn't count on, Potter is that I am not like most of the wizarding world. From my experiences, I'm a bit more open-minded." Harry looked at him like he might be dreaming, and Snape found this very uncomfortable. **

**"You-you mean…it's not…wrong?" He asked quietly.**

**"Wrong? Certainly not. Preferring a different sex is like preferring a different type of fruit, and it's idiotic to hate someone who has a different preference." Harry nodded slowly. **

**"But…but…when they tried to fix me…"**

**"When who tried to fix you?" Snape asked sharply.**

**"The Dursleys…" Harry's eyes were glazed over and his voice sounded like it was coming from very far off. "I was five, and when I commented on some boy or other being 'pretty', well, they tried to fix me…by…by..." Harry swallowed. **

**"You were raped," Snape said quietly, and Harry nodded.**

**"A lot. They thought that they could fix me that way…but, I don't think it did. Actually I know it didn't because…" Snape was still trying to allow the idea of a five year old Harry being raped by a grown married couple and probably young boy. But then again, Severus was not slow. He picked up on that last part. **

**"Because why?"**

**"I like someone," Harry said slowly.**

**"Well, that's going to be hard, since most all wizards are so hateful against gay men and women." Snape commented, feeling a bit sorry for the boy. Harry looked at him; eyes still a bit glazed with a slow redness creeping over his cheeks, and then looked down into his lap. **

**"Yeah," he whispered. Snape looked at him closely, leaning over the desk to get a better look.**

**"You like _me_," he said, in the most unbelieving tone that Snape could be expected to have. Harry nodded miserably, not looking up. Snape leaned back in his chair, contemplating. **

**"I'm sorry," Harry's soft, broken whisper woke him from his musing, and he said something Dumbledore had tried to explain to him a while back,**

**"Never be sorry for something you feel." There was silence for a minute, then,**

**"You…you aren't going to hurt me, are you?" Harry asked quietly, the words spoken as if he actually believed it possible.**

**"You ­_still_ believe I would physically attack you?" **

**"Well," Harry said helplessly, still not raising his head to look at Snape. "You are Snape. The potions master that would kill me if it wouldn't blow your cover. Now, all the sudden, you find out I like you, and you don't hate me more? That's a bit hard to believe."**

"**I'll leave your death to the hands of the Dark Lord. I would not wish to anger him by killing you first. As for hating you more, as I said before, I am probably the only person who will ever hate you with equal intensity throughout your days, so never fear that that will change." Harry thought he imagined it, but there was a slight smile tugging at Snape's lips. After a moment of silence, Harry said,**

"**Can I go now?" And Snape shook his head. Harry huffed and rearranged himself in the chair, trying to get comfortable. Snape was quiet, and Harry got annoyed. Why did he keep him here this long? Surely to extend Harry's embarrassment or perhaps to mock him more (he was, of course, disregarding the fact that Snape had not mocked him, as of yet...). **

"**Why can't I go, sir?" Harry asked impatiently.**

"**What, Potter, can't stand to stay in the same room with me?" Snape snapped.**

"**No…I can't, sir." **

"**I'm going to pretend that I did not read into that farther than I maybe should have," Snape said loftily, and Harry grinned, blushing again.**

"**Sorry sir." He said.**

**Snape mused that this must have been the first time in moths that Harry had smiled. And then Snape regarded his thoughts with certain apprehension; he had just called him 'Harry', albeit it was in thought only. Coming out of his musings, he saw that Harry was looking down into his lap again, looking a bit like he had a small bit ago.**

"**What?" Snape asked, wincing inwardly at the harshness of his voice. Harry actually winced outwardly.**

"**You were sneering disgustedly, like I've seen you do before, and I sorta figured you had come to your senses about me." Harry said quietly.**

"**Gods Potter, do you think like that regularly? Lousy pessimist, aren't you supposed to be in Gryffindor?" Harry just shrugged. "Well, you should have learned by now not to jump to conclusions. I was sneering merely because, in my mind, I accidentally called you by your proper name, and we just cannot have that."**

"**You what?" Harry looked up at him, eyes so full of hope it was painfully obvious. "Called you by your first name, Potter! Are you deaf as well?" Harry tried to hide his bright smile, but failed miserably. Snape glared at him.**

"**This doesn't change anything, Potter. It's true, I don't hate you any differently than I did before, I don't think your disgusting, and I'm not going to hurt you, or snub you, like your idiot friends, but that doesn't automatically mean I like you. I'm a Death Eater, Potter. Men like me aren't capable of liking people." The way Harry was sitting looked defiant, and Snape went on,**

"**And tell me, would you _really_ have a relationship with the person responsible of your parent's death?" he asked bitingly.**

"**_Yes_," was the muttered reply. It was biting, almost bitter, and it surprised Snape to hear it.**

"**Well then, you are certainly more screwed up than either of us thought."**

"**I know." Harry said quietly. Silence stretch between the two until Severus Snape said the closest thing to an apology that we will ever hear.**

"**Potter, I did not mean to imply that you were muddled to begin with, and hope you do not take my previous outburst seriously."**

"**I won't." Harry said, but Snape wasn't convinced. But before he could pursue it further, he was struck by the obvious.**

"**Potter…you don't like me, do you?"**

"**No." He was unsure if Harry was answering like that because a) he thought Snape was giving him a chance out of the whole mess, or b) it was as Snape suspected.**

"**Your feelings are…of a stronger nature, are they not?"**

"**Yes." Snape sighed. When and how was it even possible for _Potter_ to be in love with _him_? It was the most ridiculous thing! And yet here they were. Snape stood at walked around the desk to stand beside Harry's chair. Harry flinched, as if expecting something, and another wave of pity fell. How could he live like this?**

**Severus knew the same questions were asked about himself, but he was a grown man. This was…this was a _child_. A Boy of 16. He should not be subject to such things as of yet. Never, if Snape could of had his way with it. He gently laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, feeling how strongly the boy was shaking. Harry looked up at him after a few minutes, questions running across his eyes too quickly for Snape to register what they were.**

**"Potter…Harry, though I am flattered that you feel so strongly towards me, I cannot say that you are doing yourself justice. There are millions of others out there that are better suited for you. Perhaps someone less dark, less _used_. I am not the person for you; you deserve someone who is more worthy of your feelings, all right? I do not deny that I fell something for you, but I would much rather see you happy with someone else." Harry looked like he was going to cry. Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Great, _just_ the reaction he was going for. Harry's arms suddenly wrapped around Snape's waist as the boy buried his face in the man's shirtfront. Snape stayed perfectly still, not wanting to encourage physical contact, nor deny Harry comfort of any sort. Finally, after several long minutes of quietly sobbing into Snape cloak, Harry pulled away, face looking better than it had for days. **

"**But I want _you_," he said quietly, and Snape scoffed.**

"**Want, maybe. But what happened to those strong feelings Potter?" he mocked. **

"**I don't say the word in fear of scaring you away," Harry replied steadily. Snape looked affronted and was about to say something indignant, but Harry cut him off.**

"**See? I don't want to upset you by saying the word, because it obviously would." Snape closed his mouth. The cursed boy was right. **

**They sat there for a while, Harry's arms still looped comfortably around Snape's middle, though he was still seated solidly in the chair, if not turned to the right slightly. Snape's hands had found their way to Harry's shoulders, but otherwise he stood still in Harry's grip. Then, slowly, very slowly, Snape leaned down and brought his lips to Harry's. When Harry's only response was eager lips being pressed to his, he continued, forgoing any misgivings he had previously been confronted with. When he pulled away, Harry looked at him wonderingly.**

**"The question is, more so, how could you like _me?_" Harry seemed unable to keep that question to himself. Snape moved back to his chair and sat, frowning.**

**"I don't know," he mumbled. Harry got up delightedly and sat on the desk in front of Snape, resting his feet on the arms of Snape's chair and putting his hands on the mans shoulders. Despite the extra height of the desk, Snape was eye-level with Harry's throat, giving him the view of the boys thin, jutting collarbone. He thought he quite liked that view. **

**Harry noticed his frown disappear and smiled again, the depressed, flinching, _hurt_ boy of only moments ago replaced by someone who seemed as if they had never had a happy-less day of their life. The person Snape wished Harry could be all the time. Snape sighed a giving-up sigh and looped is arms around Harry's waist. **

**"Fine," he muttered before Harry joyously reunited their lips.**

**Apparently, Snape didn't hate him so much after all.**

A/N: yay!!!! I'm not too satisfied with the ending (too happy for my taste) (gosh, I'm really screwed up, aren't I?!) but...anyway...all the angst is great...and I love the image of Harry's scars. (Gee, could I be MORE sadistic?) anyway, I do so love the angst, and I love Harry, and Snape, and Snape...yeah...How many freakin times can I write 'there' and mean 'the'?! Apparently a lot! It must be the time...-looks at clock- oh, yep, it's the time. Its 2:02am. That would be why! Well, now, I'm off to bed. Love to ya, drop a review?

-Kozy


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